


The Glorious Pursuit, or, How Danny accidentally followed Steve to a hole in the wall and learned to stop worrying so much

by commatme



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Glory Hole, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Past Steve McGarrett/OMCs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Some angst, danny worries! and what's a good friend like him to do except let their bff suck their dick, vaguely set in h50 season 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24509674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commatme/pseuds/commatme
Summary: There’s a hole in the cubicle partition. It’s an uneven, roughly hewn circle that was clearly never intended to be there by the manufacturers of the toilet, but it’s not only present now, it’s also been injury proofed by someone who was thoughtful enough to fold pieces of tape over the presumably unpolished edges.
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 17
Kudos: 142





	The Glorious Pursuit, or, How Danny accidentally followed Steve to a hole in the wall and learned to stop worrying so much

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, a book by the same name as this fic exists (the glorious pursuit part, anyway) that is, according to Amazon, “a wonderful treatment of the importance of the Christian virtues”. I am so very sorry.

Danny follows Steve into the club without asking himself if he’s going too far. That would involve self-reflection, which is a thing he feels he should probably avoid if he wants to stay on mission.

Said mission being, of course, to find out why the hell Steve is resisting Danny’s attempts at setting him up with any of the thousands of wonderful, interesting and very willing women on the island. Hearing no from Steve a few times was what Danny expected going into this, sure, because Steve is a picky man at the best of times and someone you’re dating should be someone good. But those first nos were followed by another, and another, and even when Steve has deigned to okay a date he has never once made it past two with the same woman, and that’s just not right. That’s a sure sign, even, that something is wrong, and it can’t be Steve’s datableness, because all kidding aside, who wouldn’t want a guy like him? 

So Danny is worried and as a result he’s been sleeping less again, mulling over the mystery while Steve keeps his mouth clamped tightly shut, unwilling to open up and let Danny in. And when Danny ended up a few cars behind a very familiar Silverado fifteen minutes ago, well, that’s about when he told his brain to stop thinking so he wouldn’t have to wonder just how fucked up it is to follow your best friend around without their knowledge. 

Once inside the club – familiar half-dark with a pounding bass and writing bodies – he gets the answers he’s looking for pretty fast. It’s when he gets to the bar and surreptitiously keeps an eye on Steve, at the other end and partially obscured by a lot of bodies, that he realizes all those bodies separating them are male, often paired up with other men, occasionally wrapped up in pretty unplatonic embraces.

This is, in fact, a gay club.

That _would_ be a good reason why finding the right woman is hard. Danny’s first response is sympathy, because if Steve is interested in men and sneaking around that means he’s not entirely comfortable with his own sexuality and that’s not something anyone deserves. The second, third and fourth emotion Danny feels are indignation, hurt and anger, because he thought they were close. He thought Steve would’ve been able to open up to him about stuff that matters, and that he would have been able to do that even, or perhaps especially, when it’s something like this. Instead, Steve’s been letting Danny set him up on straight date after straight date and what, been suffering in silence? Laughing behind Danny’s back?

Steve pushes off from the bar before even ordering anything, as far as Danny can tell. Danny watches him and follows, automatically. He realizes Steve is headed for the men’s room just before Steve pushes open the door and disappears through it, and it makes Danny hover for a brief moment, unsure. It’s a small space. Going in there after Steve would be a risk, but he also doesn’t know the layout of this building and can’t be sure there isn’t another exit for Steve to escape non-stalkers, so the decision is made pretty quickly.

He doesn’t even have to decide not to wonder why it feels so important to continue keeping an eye on Steve. They’re at a gay bar, he almost certainly has his answer about Steve’s reticence when it comes to dating women, and he could just give up and go home and leave Steve to his fun.

He doesn’t.

There’s one guy at the sink who looks up with bleary drunk eyes when Danny comes in, but he’s not Steve and starts making his way past Danny for the door, so he doesn’t really matter. There’s nobody at the urinals. Danny scans the stall locks and finds one that’s turned to red, the one that’s second to last to the back wall, which in fact does not have another exit door.

All of this is optimal for Danny’s purposes. Steve hasn’t caught him and he could even go back out and wait for Steve to emerge with no chance of missing anything. But he feels wired and unsettled, not in the mood to wait it out surrounded by partying people, so he slips into the last stall instead, the one between Steve’s and the tile wall. He turns the lock and then turns around, expecting this toilet to be as surprisingly decent as the rest of this club bathroom.

There’s a hole in the cubicle partition. It’s an uneven, roughly hewn circle that was clearly never intended to be there by the manufacturers of the toilet, but it’s not only present now, it’s also been injury proofed by someone who was thoughtful enough to fold pieces of tape over the presumably unpolished edges. Anything that gets pushed through wouldn’t risk injury from cuts or chafing, which is a good thing, because it’s at a very telling height.

It’s a glory hole. Danny was aware of a club or two in Jersey that was said to have one, but he was a married cop for most of his adult life and he’s never seen one for real. For a moment, he’s surprised enough by the sight that he almost forgets Steve went into the cubicle right beside his.

But only for a moment, and only almost. Immediately after he’s _breathtakingly_ aware of where he is and where Steve is and their relative positions to each other while factoring in what’s between them, or rather what isn’t between them, which would be a regular toilet partition that nobody ever messed with so they’d be able to stick their erect dick through. Danny is nearly holding his breath and the only other sounds in the bathroom are those of the air conditioning and the music that filters in from the club, but still he doesn’t hear Steve leave his cubicle, even though he must have realized what this setup means by now, too. He’s anything but stupid.

That leaves the shocking reality Steve knows what he’s doing, and walking in here was a deliberate choice he made. Danny lets another few seconds tick by, paralyzed, and he goes from entertaining this explanation as a theory to seeing it as a near certainty. 

He’s not sure what to do.

He could still leave. It can’t be entirely unheard of that some poor sod stumbles into the wrong cubicle by accident, either unknowingly or stupid drunk or with intentions that he chickens out of when it gets real. Steve might be a little disappointed, but he wouldn’t be hurt if his anonymous partner left, and Danny doubts he’d have difficulty making his escape without Steve ever being any the wiser that Danny was here at all. On its own, leaving seems like the obvious correct response.

But.

If he does that, what will Steve do next? He’ll wait, presumably, for the next guy to enter, and maybe that’s a guy who will have no problem doing what Danny neglected, and Steve will at best have entirely meaningless and probably very mediocre sex with someone who doesn’t care about him, which breaks Danny’s heart, a little bit. 

At worst, though, Steve will be an idiot and think more about protecting his identity than his dick and contract some horrible STD, because who knows what kind of guys come in here? Which is even worse, because it makes Danny’s throat feel tight with panic. He’s Steve’s partner. He’s supposed to protect him from making stupid mistakes or getting hurt or even from himself, when necessary. 

Which means it was never really a question, in the end, because there is only one path Danny can follow here. He’s doing this. He’s only sucked a dick twice in his life, and both times were drunken college experiments that feel like a lifetime ago and one of the guys never even finished because they were interrupted by a roommate, but there’s no good reason to let any of that stop him. He goes down on women all the time. Blowing his best friend through a hole in the wall in a gay bar… well, it’s bound to be very different in almost every conceivable way, but the fact that he’s not running away screaming at the thought has to count for a lot.

Two fingers come through the hole, as if searching for something. Danny stares at them dumbly for a moment, trying to remember every defining characteristic he’s ever picked up about Steve’s hands to really doublecheck he’s not confusing something here, and then he realizes that this is his cue to respond and jerks out a hand, touching his fingers to the other guy’s. Steve’s.

Steve’s hand pulls back and Danny’s fingers follow him a little, unsure what this means or what the etiquette is here, and then suddenly his index and middle finger are enveloped in wet heat and suction all the way down to the second knuckle. He almost pulls back but Steve was anticipating that and has a hold on the base of Danny’s fingers, and Danny could definitely still yank his hand free if he wanted but he finds that he, maybe, does not.

Steve, Steve has his mouth-

Danny’s fingers are-

That means on the other side of the wall, Steve must be-

He doesn’t have to be familiar with any etiquette to figure out what this means and what Steve is putting on offer here. His resolve to stay and do whatever Steve wants to do is renewed and doubles, because if Steve isn’t just looking to paw at someone’s junk or get sucked off by a stranger, if _Steve_ is the one on his knees, the unworthiness of potential candidates and the danger inherent in the act rings even more clear.

Danny has to pull his fingers back to undo his fly, because it’s not working with just one hand. His middle finger is wet and hot where it rubs up against his ring finger. His zipper sliding down makes a telltale sound and it draws a noise from the other stall, more human, something in between a moan and a grunt. It sounds like encouragement. Danny’s hands shake when he pushes his pants and underwear down his thighs, freeing his cock, which is already hard.

He’s not even surprised anymore. All of his surprise has been used up. He continues not analyzing it, because that’s definitely best.

That’s also how he takes his dick in hand and carefully guides it through the hole.

He hits his forehead on the partition wall and it smacks a little too much sense into him and makes him starkly aware of how ridiculous this is. He’s standing here, pants around his knees, dick in hand, sticking the most vulnerable physical part of him out in front through a little hole while he can’t see who or what’s on the other side.

For all he knows, it could be someone with hedge scissors, rearing to go.

But then there’s the wet heat again. It’s back and it’s insistent and it’s so much better and more heady than it was on his fingers, and he slams his head against the wall again but on purpose this time because oh, God, Steve. Danny has long since given up on trying to count the very specific subjects Steve is unexpectedly a world class expert on, but sucking cock seems to be yet another one, and of course it is, because Steve is going at it with enough enthusiasm that it puts Danny’s knees in danger of buckling and Steve has never been known to _not_ throw himself headfirst into something he thinks is a worthy cause.

Where did he learn this? Is it a Navy thing? Is it part of that million dollar SEAL training, all of the class standing at attention in a lineup while Steve is on his knees, servicing them?

How long has he been coming here, to this literal hole in the wall, sucking off guys he’ll never know? Have they ever run into someone who’s come in Steve’s mouth and none of them knew it, not even Steve?

Steve sucks even harder and Danny’s hips twitch, unbidden, and suddenly the movement on the other side stops, but none of the soft heat disappears. Danny’s brain is too lust-addled to realize what this is at first, what’s being asked of him now, and he twitches his hips again in frustration at the pause and Steve moans, hums, vibrates around his dick, and that’s when Danny gets it. 

He changes the placement of his hands on the partition wall, plants his feet more firmly on the ground and starts thrusting, fucking into the mouth on the other side. Any trepidation he would have felt is drowned out by the incredible rush of it. It’s still just a blowjob, and one under terrible circumstances, and it shouldn’t be quite possibly the single hottest experience of his life, but goddammit, there’s no two ways about it. The slide of Steve’s lips is so slick and the suction so sweet and he keeps humming and moaning and even if Danny can’t see him, he can _hear_ that this gets Steve hot, and he’s pretty sure he can feel it in the desperate tinge to the way Steve sucks him.

He comes hard and faster than he usually does, panting, grunting, tensing up and banging a knee into the partition while he spurts into Steve’s mouth, down that throat, on that tongue, long jets that Steve sucks him through like he wants all of it, every last drop.

He pulls his dick back just before the pleasure keels over into pain from oversensitivity, and then he’s fully unable to do anything but sag against the partition and gasp for air and try not to fall asleep standing up for a few minutes.

He manages, but it’s a miracle he’s still upright by the time he feels up to moving his limbs again. He brings a still sluggish hand to the hole and pushes his fingers through, like Steve did at first. It’s the way all of this started, and it’s Danny’s turn to repay the favor.

There’s no answering touch, but there’s a huff of laughter on the other side of the partition. It’s painfully familiar. Danny closes his eyes and leans into the wall, and isn’t prepared in the least when suddenly and without warning, for the first time during this illicit act, Steve speaks up. “It’s way too late for that. I came before you did.”

The implications of that hit Danny like a sledgehammer. Steve gets off on sucking dick. Easily, it sounds like – and not just any dick, but _Danny’s_.

But the hammer isn’t done: it reaches its furthest point, is pulled down again by gravity and hits him a second time when he realizes exactly what Steve just did, with the clarity of a mind that isn’t fogged over by lust anymore. Instantly, Danny forgets all about how hot the words are. All that matters is that they make him _furious_ – only Steve, idiot extraordinaire, would go through all this trouble and take this much risk (no condom! not even an attempt at protection!) in the pursuit of anonymity, and then ruin all of it by speaking up like he’s talking to a buddy. What if someone recognizes his voice? All of Five-0 appears in radio or tv interviews every so often, and they talk to hundreds of people every year and any of them could have been on this side, and any of them could make the connection and have bad intentions. The possibilities bounce through Danny’s mind like a deadly bolt of electricity: someone could tattle on Steve to the Governor or the Navy, or try good old-fashioned blackmail, or even worse, they could be or know some criminal Steve put away who’s out for revenge. Bad people like getting their dicks sucked, too.

But now he’s stuck, because if he opens his mouth and lets any of those words spill out the way they want to so badly, burning on the back of his tongue, then Steve will know. Steve will recognize his voice, for sure. He’s not the one whose throat got fucked.

“What’s up, Danny?” Steve asks, before Danny gets to make up his mind. “Cat got your tongue?”

It’s like a bucket of ice water upended over Danny’s head. He goes back over it three times, but he can’t twist it into anything but what he heard the first time. “What did you just say?” he croaks.

Steve doesn’t respond, but it sounds like his cubicle is being unlocked. Danny is hiking up his pants and through his own door in a flash, and then there Steve is. Steve, no one else, just Steve, looking pretty relaxed standing right in front of him in the same cargo pants and T-shirt he was wearing when Danny followed him into the club, but with a definite stain on the front of his pants and with lips that look puffy, like someone-

There’s only a few feet separating them, but Danny advances on Steve with no clear idea of what he’s about to do. Hitting him does not seem out of the question, but Steve raises his hand first, and he uses it to grab Danny by the nape and join their mouths together. There’s no part he’s holding back – he goes for it completely and deeply, and he kisses like a starved man. Danny gives back as good as he gets, because he’s still angry and he’s not about to let Steve take the lead without a fight. He licks the taste of his own come from the roof of Steve’s mouth.

In the end, Steve breaks away first, but Danny feels like he’s the one whose world was just turned upside down. He grabs Steve’s shoulders with the intention of giving him a good push, but he ends up clinging and holding on for dear life instead. “You’re an idiot,” he spits, and he’s pretty pleased with how mad he manages to make it sound while he still can’t look Steve right in the eye because his attention keeps trailing down to Steve’s mouth. “Do you even know what safe sex is? That wasn’t it.”

“I know.” There’s a frantic edge to Steve’s expression, like maybe he’s as freaked out as Danny is deep down, but for the most part, he’s outwardly calm. He takes a hand from Danny’s back to dig in his pocket, and then he holds up a handful of condom packets. “I’m not crazy. I always make them use it.”

Danny stares at the condoms until Steve closes his hands and stuffs them away again. So Steve _has_ done this before. That just makes the oversight worse. “You didn’t today.”

“Today was different,” Steve says plainly, and the way he says it, the way he’s looking at Danny as he does so, Danny would have to be deaf and blind to still have to ask why it was different.

It burns away the last of his anger, leaving him stunned. “How did you know it was me?”

“I saw you follow me in your car and inside the club. I deduced.”

“You guessed.”

“I knew.” 

Danny won’t fall for that. He makes a skeptical sound.

“I hoped,” Steve amends, and that Danny can believe. He’s surprised by just how easily.

The bathroom door opens and a guy washes in along with a drift of music. He looks first Steve and then Danny up and down and glances at the two unoccupied stalls to which they’re blocking the way. “Either of you guys staying?”

“No.” Danny changes his grip on Steve’s shoulder and Steve lets himself be pushed in the direction of the exit. “We’re most definitely going.”

Steve continues following his lead when they emerge into the hot throb of bass and bodies outside the tiny well-lit universe of the bathroom, but he leans in close enough to be heard. Considering the noise level, that’s pretty close. “ _Where_ are we going, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Danny says, and slows his pace until he ends up standing still so he can look at Steve, who is watching him with interest but more than a little wariness, too. Danny breathes out. He brings a hand up to Steve’s face and just brushes his cheek, and Steve goes still. “If you want, we could go somewhere you can repeat what you just did while I can see and touch you.”

The wariness melts away, forgotten, replaced by heat and wonder. “A bed?” Steve suggests. “My bed?”

Danny’s heart pounds to the beat and he has no power to keep the slow grin off his face. “Yeah. Perfect.”

He has a feeling that after tonight, he won’t be losing sleep over his failure trying to set Steve up with a good woman anymore. He’ll have far better things to keep him up.


End file.
